Blooming After the Rain
by Irith Ayllistira
Summary: Aerith prayed but the Goddess didn't give back her love from Death's Lair." Can a woman shut her heart to love or are her instincts too alive to deny a path created centuries ago? What if that path leads to Death itself?


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blooming after the Rain

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prelude of Melancholy and Bitterness

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"_Time heals everything...Time heals the time itself, even the time that passed us by without our knowledge."_

With trembling hands, she touched the bare sides of her body, feeling the soft texture of her moistened skin under her elegant fingers. Unable to determine how much time she had been under the falling rain, her mind leapt out of space and wandered in the immensity of night. Looking upon the branch of a tree, her glowing gaze focused on the pending water drop that fought to gain equilibrium.  
Like a crystal sphere that fought to one day lay flat on the surface and stare at the stars.

A tingle ran through her fingers; a soft shiver caressed her spine as she writhed her body to stay still, as a tall shadow approached her decomposed figure. At first, the tiny hand beside her hip bitterly clenched into a fist and then slowly released its strength as awareness came present to her oblivious eyes. As their eyes met, she let her hand rise to the defined man's neckline, which she caressed with her finger tips. He fell to the sweet temptation of her touch and let his head fall to her shoulder, as her arms surrounded his neck, _protecting, caring, absent followers of body's desire. _

It was an astral's song that rose in the air, interpreted by a man's voice, deep and caring, mirror of the entrails of the moon, who reflected its _vicious_ shine above them.

"For freedom, _men fail._ For honor, _they decay._ For dreams_, they fall. _His destiny was no different than the one of a hero."

"For the heroes are immortal and not mere shadows of what _they could have been _if death's hand hadn't blocked their odyssey through the surface."

"Your words are sweet riddles to my ears." His voice was soft under the placid rain "Is your wisdom disguised in true anguish or the mask that covers your face is too well solid to break under rain."

"I am broken already. My loss is too great for my body to contain".

She then heard a soft whisper descending from the above. As she lifted her eyes to the engulfing darkness above her head, her fingers followed the movement. The young woman stretched her arm to the sky, feeling the murmuring of the Goddess, coming, descending on her, mirroring the skies and the divine plane. Another drop of water fell on her limpid face, washing the pain and the sorrow away. Only if sorrow and pain weren't deeply buried in her heart, it would be surely easy to avoid.

He watched as she was blessed. _And he wondered_, too. She lifted her head and exposed her throat, as the rain fell; eternal pouring that washed the land, as seed and water infiltrated the soil. _Regain the earth, regain your people, and regain the blessing of the Goddess. _

Why should dreams fall --- It was no question however, that people made to those words. It was rule; it was law, immortal human affair than even so, hadn't found a predictable answer. The question had been a question for so much time that it lost the right to be a question. _But,_ they did fall, as the tears ran down the youngster cheeks, as she presented her heart with such grief that stone would cry watching the demonstration of her sorrow.

_No human has to pass through this_, the man absently thought as he cradled the young woman in his arms. He let his hands slowly trail down her body, feeling every inch of her skin, _analyzing_, comforting, slowly tasting – creating havoc to his own senses. He, however, dropped his hands when the girl backed away and lifted her chin in pure demonstration of pride. She held her gaze, and for the brief seconds that their eyes met, a strong mind bond established between them, flowing memories coming to haunt their hearts with a past reminiscence adorned with a tang of bitterness and inner satisfaction, which complexity was hard to describe even for the most expressive chatters.

"Do not cry.", his hand rose to her head, burying his fingers in her damp, dark hair. The scent mixed with the rain and he was forced to close his eyes to deny the mix of feelings crossing his heart and body. The girl's heart was too tender to break. No rule had the right to. No law, even the one that decided between life and death. Nor should a man's fate be decided by that one rule. Not when it was unfair and torn souls.

"It shouldn't have been like that. Not now. Not like this. Not for freedom, not for honesty. He should have died in another way, not fighting for his rights." She said with a trembling lip. A tear erupted from the corner of her eye and slowly descended to her chin, as a drop of morning dew on the tip of a leaf.

"He died with honor, Aerith."

"Honor buried many."

"People will remember him forever for that honor. He'll never be forgotten."

"Honor will be useless for him now."

Her whisper was soft, but it brought only justice to the words. Wasn't the sparkle caused by tears in her eyes, the man would thought the girl was transcending to other plane of existence. Her words were speaking much out of her, however. Thus, it was pain that caused her vulnerability, and ironically her most weak moment was the moment that showed the grand power that existed within her.

The young woman's eyes turned again to the water drop pending on the tree's branch. A soft wind came from north; just a tired breeze that rushed through the street and cleaned up the wet pavements. The girl felt sand rubbing her nude skin, and then again the rain, washing the dirt away from her naked body. She again fixated the dew on the branch. The breeze made the little drop to oscillate. She watched as the molecule tried to gain balance – fighting against the gravity forces.

_The water drop fell._

Aerith forced herself to stand still as the man clutched her in his arms. Pale hair, glued to his neck and forehead, touched the woman and both of them covered up in a moonlight curtain, both feeling like they belonged to the same part of the universe.

_The rain stopped._

It was seconds after that that the man, wet to the bone looked down, to the stone pavement, staring at the small gap between two stones. He then called her attention, pushing her eyes to the ground.

She then saw it. For the first moment, it wasn't more than a green button in the rock gap, but after mere seconds, a flower grew solid and strong, covered in dew and water. The white petals spread apart, glorious and miraculous for the two of them to see. A small smile tugged at the man's lips.

"Look, dear: A flower blooming after the rain."

Aerith made silence, biting her lip to contain herself from breaking.

"I will never forget him", she said.

And the world slowly disappeared.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes: Please don't mind the short, senseless prologue. It's a prologue, as it indicates. It barely has deep connections with the next chapters, so I hope you see beyond it, and don't think my writing technique is just a mindless piece of work. Hope you enjoy it and please review for some constructive criticism. Please forgive me for the English mistakes; I wrote the entire prologue in my mother language and translated it to English, so it was a my piece of cake, and writing in English is not my cup of tea.

Thank you for your time.


End file.
